


Anger Management

by LaLunaWritesStuff



Series: Moments of Spideypool [26]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spideypool-fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Rage, contains violent scenes (not too graphic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLunaWritesStuff/pseuds/LaLunaWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Wade encounter something utterly unexpected after a shopping trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anger Management

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! :D  
> I'm back ;) Got lots of new stuff planned (gonna be some exciting months ahead!) and I hope I can get a schedule for uploads worked out as well, soon.
> 
> On a personal note: I am very proud to announce I had my first-ever writing-related interview (and photoshoot, whaat?) with a national newspaper last week :D 
> 
> Also: I just watched GOTG and it was AWESOME! I am definitely _hooked on a feeling_ ;)  
>  (and wishing they would sell the soundtrack on an actual tape)
> 
> And now, off to the next Chap ;) Enjoy <3

“I really don’t think we need that much fruit in our lives,” Wade muttered doubtfully and shot a grumpy look at the full shopping bags in his hands, as the two men were on their way home.  
“Of course we do, even superheroes need to eat healthy,” Peter replied and hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders. 

“Sweetie, only one of us is a hero.”  
Wade waved a hand dismissively at Peter’s chiding glance. “And I don’t want stupid fruit and vegetables, I want Tacos!” he whined when they stopped at a traffic light, watching the cars rush by.  
“It’s not stupid. Just think of all the yummy foods with fruit.”  
“Like?” Wade mumbled darkly and Peter smiled. 

“Like strawberry pancakes, or blueberry muffins, or applepie,” he replied and watched the Merc’s face turn into a scowl, allthough there was no doubt he was blushing under his mask, judging by the redness creeping up his neck.  
“Hmpf, why do you always have to be right?”  
“Well, you do like my cooking, I also like yours,” Peter said, smiling gently and looking up to meet Wade’s masked eyes.  
“I would never say no if you’d make Tacos tonight. And maybe you could get some of those yummy berries I bought for dessert?”  
Wade immediately picked up on Peter’s tone and grinned.  
“Oh, I’d know so many places from there to eat those off.”  
"And that's why we need fruit."  
"Always so smart," Wade said happily and didn't seem bothered at all by the fruit anymore.

They arrived home right in time for dinner preparations, but something immediately felt off.  
“What’s going on?” Peter asked curiously, tilting his head when his spider-senses tingled in his neck.  
“This,” Wade growled and nodded towards a car parking a bit further down the road.

They looked at each other, then Peter grabbed their shopping bags and quickly webbed them to the wall next to their living room window with his backpack, where no one would see them in the late afternoon shadows.  
With careful, experienced steps they went to the main entrance and Peter scowled when he found obvious scratchmarks around the lock. Their apartment building was one of the better secured places, but today that had obviously attracted someone.  
Wade growled when he pushed open the door, which had been left ajar. Slowly, the two men entered the building and Peter pulled his mask from the back pocket of his jeans to put it on. 

 

Wade heard Peter’s light steps behind him when the couple walked up the stairs to the first floor. Only one of the doors was cracked open, the lock badly scratched and probably beyond repair. 

Wade felt rage bubbling up inside him as they went up higher. They lived on the top floor of the building, so on their way up they encountered several open doors – most likely that stupid van was almost full with anything that could be turned into cash. There were noises now, whispering and a very faint metallic sound, that Wade knew well enough, even if he rarely used it in his jobs anymore. It was lockpicks, clattering against the metal casing of a door lock. 

They passed the third floor and with every step Wade could feel the weight of the daggers hidden under his slightly baggy jeans clearer. There was also a gun hidden on his back, where the hem of his hoodie covered it. 

They could hear two people talking now, and Wade heard one curse.  
“Fuck this shit ... why is there another lock?!” one hissed and there was the metal sound of the lockpicks again.  
“There’s gotta be good stuff in there. Gimme that,” said the second one.  
More metallic noises sounded when Wade took the last step that helped his head reach high enough to see the top floor. And two pairs of dirty sneakers.  
In front of his door.  
Right there, almost in his home.  
“Got it!” the second one whispered and the door opened, the two of them stepping in fast. 

Wade was behind them in the very next second, throwing them on the floor with well-placed punches to the places where he would conjure the most damage. 

Those two fuckers were in his home.  
In the place he loved the most on this world.  
They just trampled in, wanting to take what he had finally accepted as _his_ , as something he at some point could deserve to have.  
That he was able to call a real home.  
His eyes clouded over with pure rage and he darted forward, pulling the daggers out of their hiding places with experienced movements, landing the first deep gashes within seconds. 

 

Wade heard screaming and grinned under his mask, flipping one of the daggers and raising his arm to start the hacking and turn those intruders into mush.

 

It all happened so fast that Peter barely had time to think, when Wade jumped through the door and started attacking the thiefs like a mad animal. Metal was glinting for a second, then there was this distinct sound of blades cutting into flesh, when the Merc slashed away.  
The two guys yelled in pain and shock, blood splattered on the floor.  
It dawned on Peter as he watched the scene ... Wade would kill those men. 

 

“No!” Peter then screamed and jumped forward, shooting the dagger out of Wade’s hand with a web, as soon as it was raised to stab. The Merc snarled in rage when slim but strong arms encircled him, held him back.  
“Wade, please!” Peter yelled over his lover’s angry shouting, pushing his feet to the ground with all his force to hold Wade, who was out of his mind with anger. The two intruders were already on the floor, in pools of their own blood, writhing in pain.  
“Get the fuck away! Let me go!” the older man yelled and tried to toss Peter off his back. Scarred hands pulled on Peter’s wrists but the hero laid all of his superhuman strength in his grip, eventually hooking a leg around Wade’s legs to make him sink to his knees. Wade proceeded to punch the floor and scream, until he had eventually stop for air.

“Please, please ... calm down ... Wade, please ... it’s okay, I’m here ... everything is okay ...,” he said through clenched teeth into the Merc’s ear, panting heavily when Wade finally stopped thrashing around. Then his angry screams died down to breathless growls and curses, until he finally collapsed to the floor, shaking.  
Peter leaned his forehead against Wade’s shoulder, now hugging his lover more than he was holding him.  
“It’s okay ... everything is fine ...,” the young man panted and placed a delicate kiss on the back of Wade’s neck. “I’m gonna ... let you go now ... okay? And ... take care of things ...”

“’kay,” Wade said after long seconds and just slumped his shoulders, hunching his back, when Peter let go of him. Staring at the ground, Wade sat still while Peter wrapped some bandages around the thief’s cut wounds, then bound them with webs and called the police and ambulance, before taking them outside and letting them dangle from a lamp post next to their van.  
He heard sirens in the distance already when he crawled up the wall to get their groceries – apparently the authorities at least listened to Spiderman.

When he returned, Wade hadn’t gotten up, but had at least removed his mask. His gaze was at the ground again, but now there were all his weapons laid out before him. Peter knew Wade was always hiding something on his body, just to feel safe, but when he now saw the blood puddles on the hardwood floor and the stained daggers, Peter’s stomach turned.  
Taking of his mask, Peter came closer and took Wade’s out of his hand.  
“Honey ...,” he softly called out, hesitating before kneeling on the floor in front of Wade, so he would have time to get out of the situation if he needed to.  
Surprisingly, the Merc’s eyes weren’t clouded over when he looked up, so Peter was relieved to be able to at least get through to him.  
“Hey ... hi ...,” Peter mumbled and carefully stroked over one of Wade’s hands, smiling reassuringly. “Wanna talk about what happened?”  
Wade’s eyes shimmered, as if he wanted to cry, but he blinked the tears away angrily. Then the older man cleared his throat and shoved the daggers and other weapons away from between them.  
“Petey ...,” Wade began, but choked on the words and bit back some more tears. 

After a few more seconds of silence, slim, powerfull arms closed around him again, but this time they weren’t restraining him, fighting him, but embracing him lovingly. Wade gasped and let his head sink down gratefully, leaning on Peter’s shoulder.  
The young man slowly began to stroke over his shoulders, soothing him.  
“What happened?” Peter coaxed again and Wade sighed.  
“I’m sorry, I ... Petey, they ... uh ...”  
A soft kiss to his bald head made Wade shiver, because even now, after all he’d seen him do, Peter still loved him.  
“Petey, they were here ... in ... in my ... our ... home ... I couldn’t ... they were in here, and I just ... lost it ...,”

“Okay. It’s okay,” Peter just said after a little silence. Wade bowed his head and wondered how he ever deserved such a man like Peter. Who just accepted his crazy ways like it wasn’t unusual at all.

“They were in here, and ... this is my _home_ , Petey!” Wade groaned and shook his head in the crook of Peter’s neck, already feeling this pressure in his temples that would make his head spin and skin hurt later this evening.  
“I love this place so much ... more like ... anything ... ever ... I mean, except you. But ... they just came here and ... it hurts,” Wade mumbled, unable to put his raging emotions into words, but Peter nodded slowly. Another gentle kiss was placed on Wade’s head.

Peter could see the desperation in Wade's eyes, the pleading look of a man fearing for the only safe place he's ever had. A warm, cozy home, that was now disturbed by strangers. That wasn't only a matter of theft.  
It was a threat to Wade's psyche, Peter knew that. He also noticed those tense lines under the Merc's mask that meant he was going to be in pain tonight.  
“It’s allrght, I understand,” the young hero immediately answered, voice calm and steady. 

He held Wade for long minutes, until they heard voices inside the house and steps coming up. Most likely the police was working on giving people their things back and accessing the damage done by the thiefs.  
Reluctantly, because he would have liked to hold Wade for much much longer, Peter let go of his Merc. 

“Honey, do you wanna sit down a bit? I’ll clean up here, we don’t want ... the police to find things, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” Wade mumbled and let himself be pulled up to his feet. Peter smiled again, gently stroking Wade’s cheek, then sending the Merc off to the bedroom. 

Wade turned around again when he reached the bedroom door, seeing how Peter set to hastily cleaning up the mess and hiding the bloody knives before the police could arrive at their apartment. 

“Peter ... Thank you ... for ... y’know,” Wade said honestly, because even if he still was in the Mercenary business for a living, at no cost whatsoever would he brought this into his home.  
The young hero just smiled, of course understanding that Wade didn’t only mean the cleaning, but more importantly that Peter’d held him back.  
“I know. And I’ll always, you know,” he just said, smiling softly despite the situation, and no more words were needed between them.


End file.
